SIGILBORNE: The World Beyond

The Road Beyond

Four hours into their journey, Eiran had come to a conclusion.

Walking was considerably less enjoyable than he had imagined.

The road stretched through open fields and patches of woodland, occasionally winding around hills that looked much smaller from a distance. The morning air had been pleasant when they first left the barony, and the scenery was certainly different from what they were used to seeing from a carriage window. Yet the novelty had begun to wear off, leaving Eiran with sore feet and a growing appreciation for comfortable seats.

Arthur, meanwhile, seemed determined not to admit that he was tired.

"You know," Eiran said, adjusting the strap of his bag, "we could have hired a carriage."

"And miss all this?" Arthur gestured toward the countryside with exaggerated enthusiasm. "The beautiful trees, the endless road, the occasional rock that tries to murder your feet. What kind of adventure would that be?"

"The kind where I can still feel my legs by lunchtime."

Arthur laughed. "You're the one who wanted to travel."

"I wanted to see the world. I didn't realize the world expected me to walk across it."

They had traveled before, of course. Visits to neighboring estates, trips to markets beyond the barony, and occasional journeys with their families had given them a taste of life outside their home. But those trips had always involved carriages, prepared meals, and people who took care of the arrangements.

This was different. They carried their own belongings, chose their own pace, and had no driver to complain to when the road became unpleasant.

Despite the aching feet, Eiran found himself enjoying it.

There was something satisfying about seeing the countryside unfold at its own pace. They could stop whenever they wished, take a closer look at something that caught their attention, and follow the road without worrying about a carriage waiting for them. They had already passed a small stream, watched farmers working in a distant field, and argued over whether a strange bird perched on a fence had been watching them.

For the first time, the journey belonged entirely to them.

They eventually found a broad tree beside the road and decided to rest beneath its shade. Arthur dropped his bag onto the grass and stretched his legs, while Eiran settled against the trunk and took a drink from his water flask.

"So," Arthur began after a while, "what exactly are we going to do now?"

Eiran glanced at him. "Walk?"

"Very funny."

"You asked a question with an obvious answer."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I mean, where are we going? We've left the barony, but we haven't actually decided what comes after that."

Eiran considered the question. It was a fair point. He had spent so much time thinking about leaving that he had not settled on a particular destination beyond the vague desire to explore.

"I thought we'd visit the larger settlements first. See what's there, learn a little about the surrounding regions, and decide where to go afterward."

"So no plan."

"A flexible plan."

"That's what people call it when they don't have one."

Eiran smiled and took another drink. "We could always return home."

"Absolutely not. My father would never let me live it down."

"Neither would mine."

Arthur leaned back against the tree. "Then we'll figure it out as we go. There's no need to rush, is there?"

"No. We have enough supplies for now, and there's no reason to spend money unnecessarily."

"Spoken like a man who intends to walk until his feet fall off."

"Spoken like a man who should have brought better shoes."

Arthur looked down at his boots, then back at Eiran. "These are perfectly good shoes."

"Then perhaps your feet are the problem."

Arthur threw a small clump of grass at him. Eiran caught it against his sleeve, laughing as his friend stood and slung his bag over his shoulder.

Their rest lasted a little longer than either had intended, but eventually they returned to the road. The conversation shifted toward the places they hoped to visit and the kinds of people they might encounter. They had no shortage of things to talk about, and the hours passed more quickly whenever they forgot how far they still had to walk.

By late afternoon, the land had begun to change. The familiar fields and scattered farmhouses were giving way to stretches of woodland, with the road narrowing beneath the shade of taller trees. They had left the Wycliffe Barony a couple of hours earlier, and neither had seen a village or settlement since.

Eiran checked the remaining light through the branches.

"We should think about finding somewhere to stay for the night."

Arthur glanced around. "I don't see any houses."

"Neither do I."

"We could keep going."

"And arrive somewhere unfamiliar after dark, assuming we find anything at all. I'd rather not spend the first night of our journey wandering around in the dark."

"Fair enough."

They continued until they found a relatively open patch of ground a short distance from the road. The trees provided some shelter from the wind, and the ground was dry enough to make a reasonable campsite.

It wasn't an inn, but it would have to do.

Arthur dropped his bag and surveyed the uneven ground. "We should level this before we settle down."

"Can you do that?"

Arthur gave him an offended look. "Of course I can. I have Terran now, remember?"

"I remember. I just wanted to hear you say it."

"Keep talking, and you'll be sleeping on a rock."

Arthur stepped toward a patch of raised earth and held out his hand. His Terran Sigil responded, and the soil shifted beneath his palm. A small ridge flattened, but the movement disturbed the ground beside it, leaving a shallow dip where they intended to sleep.

Arthur frowned and tried again.

This time, he raised one section of earth while pressing another down. The result was a lopsided surface with a hump in the middle.

Eiran watched in silence.

"Don't," Arthur warned without looking at him.

"I haven't said anything."

"You're thinking it."

Arthur tried a third time. The ground flattened for a moment, only for the edge to crumble and leave a shallow trench running through the center.

He lowered his hand.

"Why is it doing that?"

Eiran crouched beside the disturbed soil. "What are you trying to make it do?"

"Flatten the ground."

"I can see that. How are you doing it?"

Arthur stared at him. "I'm using Terran to move the earth. What else would I be doing?"

"That's the method. I'm asking what you understand about it."

Arthur's expression grew increasingly suspicious. "Are you about to turn this into one of your lessons?"

"Only if you keep making the ground worse."

"I'm beginning to regret inviting you."

"You didn't invite me. You showed up at my house with a bag."

"Details."

Eiran brushed a little soil from his fingers. "Your proficiency with a Sigil depends on your Understanding. It's not simply about making the element move. You need to comprehend what you're asking it to do and how the element behaves."

Arthur folded his arms. "I understand that earth can move."

"Clearly. But look at what you've been doing. You're pushing the raised soil down without considering where the displaced earth goes. Then you're trying to correct the uneven parts by moving more soil, which disturbs the sections you've already flattened."

Arthur looked at the ground again.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Think about the entire surface, not just the part you're touching. You want the ground to be level. That means the higher sections need to fill the lower ones. Don't force everything down. Move the soil where it's needed."

Arthur was quiet for a moment. He looked over the campsite, studying the slope and the shallow dips left by his attempts. Then he raised his hand again, this time moving more slowly.

The earth shifted.

A small ridge sank, and the loose soil flowed into the shallow depression beside it. Arthur adjusted the movement, drawing earth from another raised patch to fill the remaining low spots. The ground trembled slightly before settling into a broad, even surface.

He stopped and stared at his work.

It wasn't perfect, but it was flat enough to sleep on.

Arthur turned toward Eiran with a grin. "There. See? Easy."

"You needed four attempts."

"Three and a half. The first one was almost right."

"Of course."

Arthur gave him a playful shove. "You could at least pretend to be impressed."

"I am. I'm impressed you didn't bury our bags."

They laughed, and the last of the day's frustration eased away. Together, they arranged their belongings and gathered enough dry branches for a small fire. Arthur handled the ground around the campsite while Eiran prepared their food, using dried meat and a few edible wild vegetables he recognized growing near the edge of the clearing.

Their dinner was simple stew, simmered over the fire until the meat softened and the vegetables had given the broth some flavor. It was nothing special, but after hours of walking, neither of them had any complaints.

Arthur took a mouthful and nodded approvingly. "Not bad."

"You sound surprised."

"I expected you to burn it."

"I was the one who read the instructions on the cooking pot."

"And yet you still managed to make stew instead of something interesting."

Eiran glanced at the plain meal. "Next time, I'll ask the forest to provide us with a feast."

"Good. Make sure it includes a bed."

They ate beside the fire, talking about their plans and laughing at the small inconveniences of their first day on the road. The conversation eventually drifted back to Arthur's Terran Sigil, and he admitted that he had not expected it to be so difficult to control.

"I thought I'd understand it better once I received it," Arthur said, stirring the stew in his bowl. "All those years watching people use their Sigils made it seem simple."

"Watching someone do something and understanding how it works are different things."

"Are you going to lecture me every time I use it?"

"Only when you make a mess."

Arthur shook his head, though he was smiling. "Then I suppose I'm going to learn a lot."

The fire crackled between them. Beyond its light, the woodland was quiet, with only the occasional rustle of leaves or distant call of a night creature breaking the silence.

They finished their meal, cleaned what they could, and settled down for the night. Their packs served as pillows, and their cloaks offered little protection against the chill that crept in after sunset.

Eiran found the experience strangely peaceful.

He had imagined the road many times, but he had never considered how different it would feel to lie beneath an unfamiliar sky, far from the comforts of home. The stars above the trees seemed brighter than he remembered, and the quiet left him with room to think.

The Rite still troubled him. Every time his thoughts drifted back to the altar, the same unanswered questions returned. Yet sitting beside Arthur, sharing a modest meal in the middle of nowhere, reminded him that his life had not ended with that single word.

There was still a world to see.

Eventually, exhaustion won, and both boys fell asleep.

By dawn, Eiran had discovered another unpleasant truth about traveling on foot.

Sleeping on the ground was worse than walking.

He woke with a stiff back and a dull ache in his shoulders. Arthur was already sitting up, rubbing his neck with a look of deep personal betrayal.

"I'm buying a horse," Arthur announced.

Eiran blinked at him. "Good morning to you, too."

"I mean it. A horse and a cart. We can carry our supplies properly, travel farther, and sleep somewhere comfortable when we stop."

"That sounds wonderful," Eiran said, pushing himself upright. "Unfortunately, horses and carts cost money."

"Then it's a good thing I have money."

Eiran paused while rolling up his cloak. "You have money."

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Enough."

"That isn't an amount, Arthur."

Arthur brushed the dirt from his trousers, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Around thirty gold coins' worth."

Eiran stared at him.

For a moment, the only sound between them was the crackling of the last dying embers.

"...Thirty gold?"

"More or less."

Eiran slowly set down the cloak in his hands. He had brought five gold coins, forty-three silver coins, and eighteen copper coins. He had considered that a reasonable amount for beginning their journey, provided they were careful with their spending.

Arthur had six times as much.

"Where did you get thirty gold coins?" Eiran asked. "Did you rob a merchant? Find a hidden treasury? Sell the house while your father wasn't looking?"

"None of those."

"Then where?"

Arthur grinned. "Remember how I visited your father the night before we left?"

Eiran narrowed his eyes. "You didn't tell me that."

"I was going to."

"When? After you purchased a horse, a cart, and possibly the entire settlement?"

Arthur laughed. "All right, all right. I'll explain."

The night before their departure, after Eiran had finished preparing for the journey, Arthur had made his way to the estate. He knew his father would have already returned to his duties, and he also knew that Eiran was unlikely to ask his own father for extra money. Eiran had enough pride to want to manage on his own, even when accepting help would have been perfectly reasonable.

Arthur, on the other hand, had no such hesitation.

He found Cedric in his study, reviewing documents at his desk. The baron looked up as Arthur entered, his expression shifting from concentration to mild amusement.

"Good evening, Baron," Arthur greeted him.

Cedric leaned back in his chair. "How many times have I told you to call me Uncle? I've known you since you were a baby. You don't need to stand there like you're speaking to a stranger."

"Good evening, Uncle Cedric," Arthur corrected himself with a smile.

"Better. Now, what do you want?"

Arthur placed a hand over his chest. "Can't I visit an old family friend without asking for anything?"

"You can. But you rarely do."

"That's hurtful."

"It's also true." Cedric set his papers aside. "Come on, out with it. Is something wrong?"

"No. Eiran and I are leaving tomorrow, and I wanted to ask for some money."

Cedric raised an eyebrow. "Didn't your father give you enough for the journey?"

"He gave me enough for the journey he expected me to take. I'm asking for enough for the journey I'm actually taking."

Cedric laughed quietly. "And what makes those two journeys different?"

"We don't have a proper route planned. We might travel for months, maybe longer. We need supplies, somewhere to sleep, and money in case something goes wrong. Eiran has his own savings, but I know he won't want to spend too much."

"So you intend to spend more on his behalf?"

"Not exactly. I intend to make sure we don't have to walk until our feet fall off."

Cedric studied the boy for a moment, then shook his head with a fond smile. "You two have been planning this for years, and only now have you realized that traveling costs money?"

"We knew. We just didn't think about how much we would hate walking."

"Honesty. How refreshing."

Arthur pulled a chair out and sat down. "So, can you help us?"

"Of course I can." Cedric opened a drawer and took out a small pouch, placing it on the desk. "But I'm not giving you money so you can waste it on luxuries. You'll need to keep track of your expenses, and if you get yourselves into trouble because you were careless, don't expect me to rescue you from every bad decision."

Arthur picked up the pouch and weighed it in his hand. "Understood."

"And Arthur?"

He looked up.

"Look after Eiran. He's clever, but sometimes being clever makes a person believe he can think his way out of anything."

Arthur's smile softened. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will." Cedric leaned back again. "Now go. If you stay much longer, your father will assume you've found another excuse to avoid your responsibilities."

Arthur rose and tucked the pouch away. "Thanks, Uncle."

"Don't thank me yet. I'll expect letters from both of you."

"You'll get them."

"And tell Eiran that if he needs help, he can ask. He doesn't have to carry everything by himself."

Arthur nodded before leaving the study. He had come for money, but he left with something else as well, a reminder that the people they were leaving behind would still be there when they needed them.

Back in the present, Arthur finished his story with a satisfied grin.

Eiran stared at him for another moment. "You went to my father and asked for money without telling me."

"I knew you'd refuse if I told you beforehand."

"Because thirty gold is an absurd amount to carry around!"

"It's a sensible amount for a long journey."

"That's what someone says when he's never had to manage his own expenses."

Arthur pointed toward the road. "And that's what someone says when he's about to spend half his savings on food and lodging because he refuses to buy a cart."

Eiran opened his mouth, then closed it again.

He hated that Arthur had a point.

Their supplies would be easier to carry in a cart, and a horse would let them travel farther without exhausting themselves. If they were careful, the purchase might even save them money over time. It was a considerable expense, but they had no way of knowing how long their journey would last.

Finally, Eiran sighed. "Fine. We'll buy a horse and cart, but we're not spending thirty gold just because you have it."

Arthur beamed. "I knew you'd agree."

"I agreed to the horse and cart. I haven't agreed to whatever ridiculous thing you're planning next."

"Then let's go find a good one."

They packed their belongings, put out the remaining embers, and returned to the road. Their next stop was a settlement marked on Eiran's map, large enough to have merchants and stables. With luck, they would find a reliable horse and a cart sturdy enough to carry their supplies.

A few hours later, they arrived.

The settlement was considerably larger than the villages they had passed on earlier trips. Stone buildings lined its main road, merchants displayed their wares beneath awnings, and the sound of conversation mingled with the clatter of carts and the calls of vendors. People moved through the streets with the confidence of those who lived and worked there, while travelers entered through the gate in a steady stream.

At the entrance, a guard collected a toll from each of them.

"One silver coin per person," he said.

Eiran handed over two silver coins for himself and Arthur, then followed the guard's gesture toward the main street.

"Not too expensive," Arthur remarked.

"Not if we don't make a habit of entering every settlement we see."

"I'm beginning to think you're going to count every copper we spend."

"Someone has to."

They found a stable not far from the market and spent some time inspecting the horses and carts. Arthur was more enthusiastic than Eiran, but Eiran insisted on checking the condition of the wheels, the harness, and the animal they were considering. After comparing a few options, they settled on a sturdy brown horse and a modest wooden cart that had clearly seen some use but remained in good condition.

The horse and cart cost them one gold coin and eighty silver coins.

It was a substantial purchase, but the cart was sturdy, the wheels were sound, and the horse appeared healthy enough to handle long journeys. Eiran checked the harness one last time before agreeing to the price.

With their transportation settled, they visited several merchants to replenish their supplies. They bought changes of clothing, thicker cloaks, blankets, a few basic cooking utensils, and enough dried food to last them for several days. Eiran also made sure they had soap, spare rope, and a small supply of other necessities they might struggle to find on the road.

By the time they finished, their bags were fuller, their cart was better equipped, and their remaining money was noticeablylighter.

Eiran checked their purchases and counted what remained, making a mental note to keep their spending under control. Arthur, meanwhile, seemed pleased with how much more comfortable their journey would be.

"Admit it," Arthur said as they guided the horse through the settlement. "This was a brilliant idea."

"It was a reasonable idea."

"That's your way of saying I'm brilliant."

"It's my way of saying the horse is doing most of the work."

Arthur laughed and flicked the reins gently. They continued through the streets, intending to find an inn before nightfall. The settlement was busy enough that finding lodging shouldn't have been difficult, but the crowds grew thicker near a broad square farther down the road.

People had gathered around something.

Some stood on their toes to see over the others, while several merchants had abandoned their stalls to join the crowd. The sound of conversation reached them in fragments, though neither could make out what was being said.

Arthur slowed the horse. "What's going on over there?"

"Something that has attracted half the settlement, apparently."

"Want to look?"

Eiran hesitated. They had come to find an inn, and the sun was already sinking toward the rooftops. Still, the crowd's strange silence in the middle of an otherwise lively street caught his attention.

"Let's take a look. We don't have to stay long."

They secured the horse and cart near the edge of the square, then approached the crowd. It took some effort to find a gap between the onlookers, but eventually they reached a point where they could see what everyone was watching.

A dark elf stood inside a cage.

The iron bars surrounded a small platform where she had been placed on display for prospective buyers. A metal collar rested around her neck, with a short chain attached to it. Her hands were bound in front of her, and her silver-gray hair hung untidily around her face. Her clothes were worn and dirty, making it difficult to tell how long she had been kept that way.

But it was her eyes that held Eiran's attention.

They were open, yet there was almost no life in them. She did not look toward the people speaking around her or react when someone stepped closer to inspect her. Her gaze seemed fixed on something far beyond the square, somewhere none of the gathered crowd could reach.

For a moment, Eiran forgot the noise around him.

He had seen dark elves before, though rarely. They were uncommon in the Wycliffe Barony, and the stories people told about them were often cruel or superstitious. But this had nothing to do with her being a dark elf.

It was the way she sat inside that cage, silent and vacant, while strangers discussed her price.

"She's a slave," Arthur murmured.

Eiran nodded once.

Slavery was something they both hated. The Wycliffe Barony did not permit it, and anyone attempting to buy, sell, or keep slaves within its borders would face the law. Eiran's father had never tolerated the practice, and the rule had been in place long before Eiran was old enough to understand why it mattered.

Eiran had heard enough stories about noble gatherings to know that not every territory shared that view. He rarely enjoyed the events hosted by other noble families, and slavery was one of the reasons. Too often, guests spoke proudly about the number of slaves they owned, as though another person's suffering were a measure of their wealth.

He had never understood how anyone could discuss a human life in the same way they discussed a horse or a piece of jewelry.

A man approached the cage and lifted the chain attached to the dark elf's collar, forcing her to stand so he could display her to the people gathered around. She obeyed without resistance, her expression unchanged.

Arthur's jaw tightened.

"We should do something," he said quietly.

Eiran kept his eyes on the girl. He wanted to agree immediately, to step forward and demand that the man release her. But they were in an unfamiliar settlement, surrounded by strangers, and they had no idea who the seller was or how much influence he held. They had only just begun their journey. They had limited experience dealing with situations like this, and acting without thinking could make things worse for everyone involved.

"Not here," Eiran said, his voice low. "Not without knowing what we're dealing with."

Arthur looked at him, unhappy with the answer, but he did not argue.

Eiran forced himself to look away. "Let's find an inn first. We can think about what to do once we've settled in."

Neither of them liked leaving the square, but they returned to their horse and cart and continued through the streets. The crowd's voices faded behind them, replaced by the ordinary sounds of the settlement. Merchants called out their prices, children hurried between stalls, and people went about their evenings as though nothing unusual had happened.

Eiran found that more disturbing than he expected.

They eventually came across an inn with a stable behind it and enough space to keep their cart secure. They arranged a room with two beds for the night, which cost them two silver coins and twelve copper coins. After making sure their horse was cared for and their belongings were safely stored, they went downstairs for a meal.

Dinner cost another forty-eight copper coins.

The common room was warm and busy. Travelers sat around wooden tables, sharing food and stories, while the innkeeper moved between them with practiced ease. Eiran and Arthur found a table near the wall and ate their simple meal, but neither seemed particularly interested in the food.

Arthur barely touched his bowl at first.

Eiran watched him for a moment before speaking. "You're still thinking about her."

"Of course I am." Arthur looked down at his food. "How could I not?"

Eiran had no answer. He was thinking about her, too. The lifeless look in her eyes had stayed with him, following him from the square to the inn and now sitting between them as surely as the untouched bread on the table.

They had wanted to see the world. They had expected unfamiliar places, new people, and challenges that would test them in ways they couldn't predict.

They had not expected to encounter something like this so soon.

"Tomorrow," Eiran said at last. "We'll find out what we can."

Arthur looked up. "And if we can't help her?"

Eiran held his gaze, unable to offer a promise he wasn't sure he could keep.

"Then we'll have to decide what we can do."

They finished their meal, paid for what they had ordered, and returned to their room. Their purchases had made the journey more comfortable, but no blanket or warm bed could make either of them forget what they had seen.

Outside, the settlement settled into the quiet of night, its streets emptying as the last shops closed. Somewhere beyond the inn, the dark elf remained inside her cage, still wearing the collar that marked her as someone else's property.

Eiran lay awake long after Arthur had fallen asleep.

He had left home believing that the world was waiting to be explored. Now, for the first time, he wondered how many things happened beyond the safety of his barony that people simply learned to ignore.

He closed his eyes, but the image of the girl's vacant gaze remained.

Neither he nor Arthur could put her out of their minds.